


Ark of the Living Dead

by crystalkei



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:38:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6465310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalkei/pseuds/crystalkei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy is desperate to make sure Octavia is okay in the midst of a strange virus outbreak on the Ark. Busting Clarke out of the Skybox puts a kink in all of Bellamy's carefully formulated plans but damn if she isn't useful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt fill at BFF.

 

Bellamy should have gotten sick. 

He was a janitor. He cleaned up people’s garbage, mopped muck off the floors, visited some of the most crowded areas, and then handled all of the mess left by the sea of people. 

He should have gotten sick.

But as it was, he barely noticed people getting sick around him because, well, he wasn’t around people very often. It wasn’t his job to clean medical, and he worked the late shift, so he didn’t see others that much. Life had been lonely since his mom was floated and his sister was sent to the Skybox. 

 

\--

 

Clarke was a week shy of her eighteenth birthday (her release or imminent death pending) before she knew something was up. She had a good excuse, she’d been in isolation for almost a year. Even the guards who brought her meals didn’t speak to her. Outside of that heavy metal door, the entire Ark could have been on fire and she wouldn’t have known it. The Ark could have broken apart into several large pieces, it could have been knocked off it’s rotation and hurtling towards Mars for all she knew. 

So her first inkling that something was very wrong came the day Bellamy Blake, in a stolen guard’s uniform, threw open her cell door, and told her to run.    
  


\--

  
  


Bellamy stood in the little waiting room outside the dented, heavy door leading to the Skybox. There was an office window with a ledge and a sign in log, a few chairs with arm rests that had been picked and scraped, likely by nervous visitors, and today there were two other people waiting. A woman with a high ponytail and a kid that Bellamy definitely recognized as the Chancellor’s son. 

“What do you mean I can’t see him?” 

Her ponytail whipped so fast that Bellamy pulled his head back so he wouldn’t get slapped by hair. 

“Raven,” the guard said sympathetically, which was unusual, or at least Bellamy had never heard them be sympathetic to him. Then again, this woman was pretty. “There’s a quarantine.” 

“Why aren’t you wearing a mask, dumbass? If there’s a quarantine, the least you can do is cover your ugly mug so I don’t have to see it!” Raven snapped. 

Bellamy laughed at her comeback and he heard the Jaha kid laugh too. Raven spun on her heels, putting her hands on her hips. 

“You two can shut the fuck up, at least my boyfriend is actually allowed visitors. You’re both going to be booted out.” 

“You know me?” Bellamy asked unfazed. 

“Your uniform has your name on it, Blake, you’re infamous. And you,” Raven said, lifting her chin in the direction of Jaha. “I don’t know why you keep showing up here but they never let you in, no one cares who your dad is so give it up.” 

The younger Jaha coughed and sputtered for a minute and Raven jumped back. 

“Are you sick?” she asked frantic, pulling the collar of her shirt up to cover her mouth. 

Bellamy scoffed. “Probably just allergic to talking to women out of his league.” 

“Fuck you,” Jaha said as he recovered from his coughing fit. “I’m not sick.” 

Raven cautiously released her shirt. 

“Well, you heard the man, whoever you were here to see, they’re not letting anyone in,” she said with a little less irritation, turning back to the window. “Is he sick, Polk?” 

“You know I can’t tell you that,” the guard said. 

“C’mon,” Raven lowered her voice, Bellamy had to strain to hear her. “You can tell me, I can make it worth your while, I saw your apartment has three work orders. Tired of pissing in the dark? I can get in there and repair that fixture tomorrow morning.” 

There was a short staring contest between Polk and Raven before she tried again, “Nod if he’s on that sick list, Polk, and your bathroom will be so fucking bright by 0800.” 

Bellamy didn’t see the guard, but he did see Raven’s shoulders slouch and hear her mutter, “dammit” under her breath as she turned away from the window. So the boyfriend was sick. 

Bellamy was perplexed. “Wait, why is there a quarantine and why are you so paranoid that he’s sick?”

“You don’t know?” Jaha asked. 

“If I knew, I wouldn’t ask, I work third shift picking up people’s garbage, we don’t all have glamourous lives, man.” 

“It’s getting biblical out here and you don’t know?” Raven shook her head. “Don’t let anyone get too close to you and you’re gonna want to wash your hands all the damn time. There’s some nasty virus going around and it’s making people fucking weird.” 

“This guy won’t get sick, he’s too important for that, right?” Bellamy said, hoping to taunt Wells. 

“My dad’s sick.” The kid looked sad. 

“Guess that means there will be a cure really fucking fast now,” Bellamy said. It was supposed to hurt, a dig at his privilege, but instead Bellamy found himself delivering the blow in an almost comforting way. 

“Dr. Griffin is trying but I don’t think she’s going to figure it out,” Wells admitted. 

“It’s nothing big right?” Bellamy asked concerned now. He remembered when the first year he was in school how a really nasty illness swept through section 17 and killed a bunch of his classmates. His mom kept him home from school terrified that he might bring the germs home to Octavia who was just a baby. 

Raven and Wells both looked away. A loud bell rang and the window behind them, with the guard on the other side, slammed shut. They could see him bolt out of his little office and Bellamy caught a glimpse of the Skybox on the other side. There were lights flashing and he even saw some people fighting. 

He needed to figure out a way to keep Octavia safe. He’d always come to the Skybox, every Wednesday, trying to beg or bribe a guard to let him see his sister. It never worked. She’d been in there for almost a year and he’d only annoyed the guards. But his heart was pounding and he felt like he had to do something. In just the last few minutes of learning that people were sick, putting it together that people in the Skybox were sick, he was overwhelmed with a sense of dread. 

“If they’re quarantined, god, does that mean...do you think they’re all sick?” Bellamy asked. 

Raven scratched at her neck. “They might be.” 

“Dr. Griffin would know, isn’t that right, Jaha Jr?” Bellamy asked, thinking quickly. 

“My name is Wells,” he corrected Bellamy. “And I’ll find out. I know Clarke isn’t sick, Dr. Griffin would have said something to me.”

“Who’s Clarke?” Raven asked. 

“Your girlfriend?” Bellamy raised an eyebrow. 

“No,” Wells said firmly. 

“Still have a chance with this one then,” Bellamy said, gesturing to Raven. “Her boyfriend’s a dead man walking.”    
  
“Asshole!” Raven replied sharply.

“How bad is it?” he asked, an idea forming in his mind. 

Wells looked down but Raven shook her head. 

“My department has been down by fifty percent. They’ve got half the engineers and mechanics working on some above my paygrade project in the lower decks, and the other half are supposed to be doing normal work orders but people are getting sick left and right.” 

Bellamy looked back to Wells. He didn’t trust people and this kid was no different. The privileged did not mix with the Blakes. But he was down here at the Skybox and Bellamy knew a lot of upper class folks didn’t visit their kids once they were tossed in the Skybox. (With one exception that Bellamy knew from guard training.) They were a blotch on their reputation. So maybe, just maybe, this guy could be trusted. 

“Wells,” Bellamy used his first name with purpose, testing the waters, and sure enough, Wells shifted a little. “Is this catastrophic?” 

Wells looked back to the window where the guard once sat, he looked around the waiting room. He knew the answer, it wasn’t a matter of him deciding how bad it was, it was a matter of how much he’d share with Bellamy and Raven. 

“Some shit’s going to go down,” Wells finally answered. 

Raven laughed harshly. “Captain Obvious.” 

“I don’t have time for cryptic nonsense.” Bellamy shook his head. “I’ve got trash to pick up.”

He turned to leave and that’s when Wells stopped him. Yeah, okay, maybe this could work. 

“Wait,” he said before looking at the ceiling as though he were asking some deity to forgive him. “I’ll tell you what I know but I want something in exchange.” 

  
  


\--

 

It seemed like every day started with an alarm. She wasn’t sure if her brain was just desperate to entertain itself or if it was real, but, everyday when the alarm sounded she wondered if maybe that was a new policy. A drill? The kids could have been getting out of hand more often. A month ago she would have used up her charcoal to plot all the times she heard it. But with less than a week to her 18th birthday, Clarke had lost all motivation. She’d really lost the ability to care. She’d rather use her precious little stub of charcoal to sketch things she’d only seen in books: flowers, mountains, water, trees. She drew clouds and birds on her wall so she could go to sleep gazing at them. 

Clarke was preparing herself to die, like her father, like countless other people she’d never met. She might have been getting sick, the cold of the cell seemed to seep into her bones. She spent more of her days now wrapped up in the thin, worn blanket on her bed. 

Her first days in the cell were filled with screaming, shouting, anger at Wells for getting her father killed, anger at her mother for letting it happen without stopping it. Anger at the Chancellor, the system. But that all faded into the loneliness of solitary confinement. 

So today’s alarm chimed and Clarke idly tapped her fingers on her knee to the rhythm of it. She hummed, making a song of it in her head. The thought that she might be going crazy crossed her mind, but she started to bob her head to the melody she’d concocted until the strangest thing happened. Her cell door swung open. 

“Let’s go, Princess,” a guard she didn’t recognize said before running from her door. 

For a minute she just stared at the entrance. The song she’d been enjoying, replaced by the incessant alarm. Could she be dreaming? Had solitary driven her mad? Surely not, she’d read in books before that it took more years than just one for that to happen. 

Clarke finally stood up. She cautiously walked towards the door. In tandem with the alarm she heard screams and horrible moans. A lump formed in her throat. This wasn’t real. It had to be a nightmare. 

Someone ran past the cell. They were covered in blood.

Her feet felt heavy but she pressed forward. The closer she got to the door the more she could see outside. People were running. They were being followed by other people who moved more erratically. By the time she made it to the door she was genuinely terrified. She leaned her head out, not wanting to fully step into the world that seemed to be burning down outside the cell. If this was a dream, she could just shut the door, go back to her bed, and wait it out. Nothing would be different tomorrow. 

A man was shuffling towards her but he was at least 20 feet away. 

“Are you hurt?” Clarke asked without thinking. 

He was clearly hurt. She could see blood dripping off his lips, his eyes were blank, he had a gaping wound on his arm.

Clarke took a step back into her cell, unsure of how to proceed but an arm grabbed her. A different man, crazed, but his mouth covered in blood too, he pulled, trying to drag her out of the cell. Clarke screamed and tried her best to get out of his grasp. 

“Stop! Let go of me,” she said, struggling but the man didn’t listen. 

“I told you to run, Princess.” The guard who opened her door appeared behind the man.

He held a gun up to the man’s head and fired. Clarke closed her eyes and used her free hand to shield her face. 

“You shot him?!” Clarke screeched as the man fell to the ground. “I’m dreaming. I have to be.”

She shook her head to try and clear it. 

The guard turned to someone outside of the cell. “Goddammit, where is Wells, why am I doing all the work in this operation?” 

“Wells?! Who are you?” Clarke asked. “What is going on?” 

Clarke felt herself accepting whatever was happening as reality and she was angry. Adrenaline pumping through her and now this guard who was acting like she was an idiot, and he mentioned Wells. Clarke suddenly remembered Wells sins and forget whatever was happening, she wanted to tell him how much she hated him. 

“What’s going on?” she asked the guard again, this time more forcefully. 

“Don’t let anyone grab you, don’t let them bite you, and like I said Clarke, run.” 

He reached for her arm to pull her out of the cell and Clarke recoiled. It was too familiar to the man he’d just shot.    
  
“Why should I let  _ you _ grab me?” 

“Because we’re here to get you out,” he said frustrated. “Octavia, give me that other knife, the Princess isn’t going to listen.” 

Clarke looked to see a girl roll her eyes but pull a scalpel out of her pocket. 

“Why can’t we just leave her, Bellamy?” 

“Because Wells said he needed to get her out,” Bellamy answered Octavia while offering Clarke the scalpel. 

“Where’s Wells?” Clarke asked, taking the scalpel. 

“Your guess is as good as mine, last I saw he was helping Raven. Guess your boyfriend found a replacement for you before we even got you out.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend.” She recoiled. “I hate him.”    
  
“Plenty of good relationships start that way. Sex is always better.” 

He smirked at her and Clarke hated that her body reacted to him that way. She’d known him 30 seconds and she both hated him and could admit to being attracted to him. 

“Gross, Bellamy,” Octavia said. “Can we go please?”

“Yeah, you okay bringing up the rear, Princess?”

She wasn’t sure but she thought he winked at her. She glared at him. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Watch out for that one, he looks slow, an original, I bet. Wells said she’d been experimenting on kids in here.” 

Clarke stepped out of the cell to see the first bloody man, he was close enough to reach for her now and he did. She looked back at Bellamy, she hadn’t understood most of what he’d said a second ago except this was a kid from the Skybox, but he barely looked human. 

“He’s hurt,” Clarke said, shouting over her shoulder to Bellamy, walking backward to keep the man in her sights. “Shouldn’t we be helping these people instead of running from them or shooting them?”

“They’re sick beyond a cure and they’ll make you one of them,” he explained. “Run away or put him out of his misery.” 

Clarke searched the sick man’s eyes, last time she looked they were blank but this time they looked almost hurt. Sad. She didn’t notice that she’d stopped, not until the man reached out and latched onto her arm. The movement set off something inside of her and she cut into his belly and twisted. 

“Too slow,” Bellamy shouted behind her. “Go for the brain stem.” 

She heard Bellamy coming towards her but the man was still holding her arm in an impossibly tight grip, since she was fighting against the hold, the man bent his head down, towards her arm. As if everything slowed down, she watched a drop of blood from his lips hit her forearm. Clarke yanked her arm with as much force as she could manage and used the scalpel on the back of his neck, digging it in deep where she knew the brainstem to be. He fell to the ground and Clarke felt dizzy. She staggered back a few steps before Bellamy steadied her with a hand on her back.

“Guess I can stop calling you Princess,” he said before scoffing at something she couldn’t see. 

“That was Finn!” A woman cried out from down the hall. Clarke saw Wells running with her.

“Wells, collect your person, will you?” Bellamy shouted. “Raven, you knew it might happen like this. I’m sorry but we have to go. We’ve wasted too much time already.”

Raven caught up to Clarke and glared at her before looking down at the body of the man she’d killed. Clarke didn’t get a chance to see what Raven did next because Wells was grabbing her elbow and guiding her away. He called for Raven to keep moving. Clarke was still feeling dizzy causing everything else to pass in a haze after that. 

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Bellamy scrubbed his eyes. He was so tired. They’d gotten almost 50 kids out of the Skybox and since the government had basically fallen apart, no one came after them. Wells verified that Kane was standing in for the sick Chancellor and didn’t have the guardsmen left to enforce any kind of law. He was scrambling to keep people fed and the power on.  Plenty of the kids wanted to find their parents so Raven and a whiz named Monty hacked into the medical system to find out the status on each kid’s family.    
  
Many of the kids with surviving parents wanted to go home to them so Bellamy, Miller, and Wells helped them get home safely. Now they were camped out in The Chancellor’s quarters of all places. It was a good thing too because while they were busy in the Skybox, Kane had decided a good way to stop the spread of the virus was to just shut off the air to several sections including where Bellamy’s home was, in section 17. 

So there were about 10 kids in the apartment, the ones who had no parents to go home to, and then of course, Octavia, Raven, Wells, and Clarke. Clarke Griffin. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he hadn’t expected her. 

As though thinking about her summoned her, she came out of Wells’ bedroom and sat down at the table next to him. Last he’d heard she was sleeping. Most of the kids were. 

“I’ve never seen so many people in this apartment,” she said quietly, brushing a hand through her wet hair. 

“Is the shower open now?” he asked, ignoring her comment. 

“Uh, yeah, nice to meet you, too," Clarke answered with a scoff.

“We met, earlier today, before you killed your first zombie," he said dryly. "Congrats, by the way. I didn’t know they existed a week ago.” 

“Did _ they _ exist a week ago?” Clarke asked. 

“Wells didn’t fill you in?” Bellamy was surprised. 

“I’m not talking to him,” Clarke said with a wave of her hand. “I have to find my mom. She’ll be able to figure this out.” 

Bellamy laughed now. Loudly. Until he remembered that most everyone in the apartment was sleeping. 

“The esteemed Dr. Griffin is the cause of all this,” he said. “Your mom can’t help anyone. She tried to cure it and fucked it up even more.” 

Clarke’s mouth turned down and she looked to be fuming. 

“I’m going to go find her and she’ll fix this,” she said, getting up quickly (so quickly and without a bra that Bellamy did his best to not stare at her chest.) 

“At least let Wells explain more, listen to him, he knows what’s going on,” Bellamy called after her. 

“No, I won’t listen to him. He got my father floated!” she said, turning to him. 

“I didn’t,” Wells said, coming out of his father’s room and shutting the door gently, presumably to not disturb a sleeping Raven. “And Bellamy’s telling you the truth about your mom and this outbreak.” 

Bellamy watched Clarke narrow her eyes. 

“I wanted you to be mad at me, so you wouldn’t know about your mom,” Wells explained. “But she’s gone too far. She got your father floated, she was desperate to try and fix the problem with the air and so she tried some really dangerous medical experiments.” 

Clarke shook her head and Bellamy felt sorry for her. He could see the tears welling in her eyes, but he admired the way she didn’t wipe them away. Like she could stubbornly will them to stay in her eyes and not drip. 

“My dad, he had this idea to send the kids in the Skybox down to Earth to see if they could survive and then they would work on a plan for everyone to go to Earth, but Abby wanted to see if she could figure out a way for the human body to survive on less oxygen,” Wells went on talking as Clarke leaned against the door like she couldn’t hold herself up. “She used kids from the Skybox and made these monsters. Then she tried to cure them and made it worse. My dad’s never going to be the same.”

“So what do we do? How long before they get to us? How long before we’re all like that? Is the virus airborne? What do we need to know?” Clarke’s rapid fire questions surprised Bellamy. 

He figured she’d continue wilting and spend all night a mess. Instead, she’d switched over to business. It was impressive. 

“My mom can at least answer some of those questions and if you can’t answer them all,” Clarke said, standing up and straightening her shirt. “Then I’m going to find her!” 

“Raven’s going to get us off the Ark,” Bellamy cut in. He wanted to know how she’d react to their wild plan. 

“How?” Clarke asked, wiping her eyes finally.

“She found the drop ship the engineers were working on for the Skybox kids. It only needs a few days worth of work and she’ll have it ready for us to go to the ground in.” 

He wanted her to be impressed with him like he was impressed with her and it was making him crazy that he couldn’t read her. What did he even want to impress her for? He wasn’t sure about that either. But all that uncertainty had him humming. 

Clarke took a deep breath. She looked to Wells and then she locked eyes with Bellamy, like she was trying to figure him out.    
  
“I still need to talk to my mom. I’ll be back after I visit medical.” 

“You can’t go to medical, what kind of an idiot are you?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

Clarke squared her shoulders and scoffed at him. 

“The kind that needs to find out if the virus is airborne. And if it’s transmitted by saliva or blood or bodily fluids. Shouldn’t you verify you can fuck someone without getting sick, Bellamy?”

He sucked air through his teeth, annoyed by her implication. 

“I’ll see you two in a little while,” Clarke said like a moron on a mission. 

“At least take a gun,” Wells suggested. 

“Fuck that, you want to go to medical, fine,” Bellamy snapped. “I’ll take you to medical, if you’re going to be this stupid, I want to witness it.” 

Clarke and Wells both looked at Bellamy with shock but Clarke recovered faster. “Fine. Let’s go.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shout out to Katelyn, Rachel, Ellie, and Caitlin for helping with this much larger last part!

 

 

Clarke had been in solitary for a year so she thought she might actually like people to talk to now that she was out, but Bellamy Blake was not the person she wanted to talk to. He was annoyingly protective as they walked to medical. Insisting on checking before they turned a corner, putting his arm out if she tried to walk past him.

“I’m not a princess in need of protection,” she huffed as they were coming up on the last corner before medical.

“Sorry I’m trying to make sure you don’t get dead. I’m such a jerk,” he said in a tone that suggested he was not actually sorry.

“I would have been just fine on my own. I think you’re being dramatic about the threat of danger.”

“Dramatic?” Bellamy stopped to scoff at her. “Did you see the things that tried to get you, earlier today? I’m being dramatic? We keep saying people are sick, but if they’re sick, they’re still with us. Once they cross over into that glossy eyed, craving human flesh side, they’re not them anymore.”

“Haven’t I proven I can take care of myself? You opened my cell door and left me and I did just fine.” Clarke hated that she wanted to argue about this. She shouldn’t care what he thought.

“Yeah, I guess you were mere seconds from kicking that first one in the balls, huh?”

She glared at him. “You could have warned me.”  
  
“I told you to run,” Bellamy said. “You didn’t listen.”  
  
Clarke was working on some kind of a witty response when an alarm went off. The hallway went dark, a row of green lights flashed ahead of them. Bellamy was all of a sudden pushing her against the wall, using his body to shield her from nothing, his gun at the ready. She pushed back against him, moving from behind him.

“The lights are green.” She pointed at the lights. “It’s just a power surge.”

“Or someone in the control room has gotten sick and doesn’t know what they’re doing with the alert system,” he countered.

“Medical’s right here, put your gun down, my mother’s on the council, she could still try to arrest you for busting everyone out of the Skybox.”

Bellamy’s lip twitched and his eyes narrowed.

“You’ll look less aggressive if you put your gun away. Just listen to me for fuck’s sake.”

“Fine,” he said, slipping his gun into the back of his pants.

Medical was not what she expected. It was full of sick people lying in beds, that was normal enough, except many of them were strapped down and most were moaning in the most eery way: guttural, somewhere between a croak and a growl, not the typical sounds of the sick.

Clarke couldn’t tear her eyes away from all the patients. Their skin was ashy, almost translucent, their hair was all in various states of mess, hair loss seemed to be a symptom. It wasn’t difficult to see why they were strapped down, they were moving, non stop, muscles flexing against the restraints, some more energetic than others, but even the most sedentary she could see their fingers fidgeting.

“Jesus,” she heard Bellamy whisper from behind her. “I think these are the ones your mom tried to fix.”

She looked back at him and he looked just as horrified as she felt.

“Clarke!”

She looked to see Jackson running towards her.

“Where’s my mom?”

“What are you doing here?” Jackson looked over her shoulder at Bellamy, then he shook his head in shock. “I’d heard there was a prison break but wow, I thought it was just the crazy rumor mill.”

“Where’s my mom,” Clarke asked again, knowing that Jackson could easily get off topic.

“She’s back here, with a patient, let’s get you guys out of this area,” Jackson said, looking around uncomfortably. “Are either of you hurt? Bitten? Any flu-like symptoms?”

Clarke and Bellamy both shook their heads as Jackson led them to another area of Medical.

“My mom, Jackson,” Clarke repeated, hoping he caught her harsher tone.

“Right, uh…”

“Is she even here?” Bellamy asked clearly annoyed.

“Yes.” Jackson shuffled them into an exam room. “Just wait here. And...don’t open the door.”

“He just locked us in here,” Bellamy noted after Jackson left and the lock turned. “Awesome.”

Clarke deflated. “What the fuck for?”

She tried to ignore her anxiety rising, she’d been free for such a short time and now here she was locked up again. At least she wasn’t by herself this time, but she was still on edge.

“I hope it’s for our safety and not because they plan on arresting either of us. Space is cold this time of year.”

“Don’t joke about that,” she said sharply. “My dad was floated.”

“And so was my mom, your own mother sat on the council while Jaha told me I should be glad I wasn’t also going to be floated for hiding my sister.”

Clarke felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment so she busied herself with examining a poster on the wall about mental health.

“Sorry, I didn’t know that,” Clarke muttered, not wanting to face him.

“It’s hard to imagine our parents doing awful things but your mom’s track record is pretty shitty from my point of view,” Bellamy said almost gently, like maybe he didn’t want to fight about it.

But Clarke couldn’t help herself. There was so much new information about her mother and it was difficult to process along with all the other things that were happening: monsters trying to eat her, being locked in a small space again. She spun on her heel and pointed a finger on his chest.

“Your mom had an illegal kid and made you complicit in her crime, did you ever think how shitty your mother was?”

Bellamy stared at the finger she had on his chest for half a second. Then a few more seconds. Clarke felt awkward standing there, watching him for some response other than his chin against his chest while he looked at where her finger rested. She slowly retracted her hand, curling her fingers into a fist and putting it at her side.

He finally looked up at her, his face set and his jaw clenched.

“Don’t talk about my mother,” he said sternly.

“Okay.” She wondered if she’d made any sound with her response but he seemed to get it.

The door opened then, Clarke saw Bellamy reach for the gun at his back but her mother came through the door and he seemed to remember her suggestion before, his hands moved back to his sides.

“You’re not hurt are you?” her mother asked and when Clarke shook her head, Abby embraced her tightly.

For a moment, in her mother’s arms, Clarke tried to forget everything that was going on. She breathed in the familiar scent of her mother’s soap, nuzzled her cheek on the rough cotton of her mother’s jacket, and slumped against her for just a minute.

Finally though, she pulled back, remembering the things people kept saying, that her mother made the world what it was today.

She cleared her throat and steeled herself but before she could say anything, Abby started.

“I guess you’re the one who staged the break out,” she said to Bellamy.

He stiffened but her mother carried on.

“Saving your sister is noble but you’ve created a bigger mess.”

Bellamy scoffed. “I made sure Clarke got here safely and you still think I’m a criminal. You’re a piece of work, Dr. Griffin.”

Clarke watched her mother look Bellamy up and down disapprovingly before her annoyance got the best of her.

“Mom, are you going to arrest us or what?”

Abby had the decency to look offended at the question. “Kane doesn’t have the manpower to do anything. And no, I won’t have my own daughter locked up again.”

“Floated your own husband so I don’t know what to expect of you,” Clarke said boldly and watched her mother’s face fall.

“Blake, right?” Abby asked, ignoring Clarke. “Can you give us a minute?”

Clarke had known Bellamy for about eight hours and she was not a fan but she appreciated the way he seemed to ask if she wanted to be left alone with her mother with just a look. She nodded and he gave one last glare at her mother before he walked out the door, but he didn’t close it behind him and Clarke appreciated that. Not that she thought her mother was going to do anything but it was nice knowing the exit was still available if needed.

“What is happening?” Clarke asked once Bellamy was gone.

“There’s just been a small infectious outbreak,” her mother said but she could tell she was lying. The line was too practiced.

“Two men tried to take a bite out of me today. They definitely weren’t just going to snack on me either. They were crazed.”

“It’s just a strange symptom. Like PICA in some pregnant women.”

Clarke laughed humorlessly. “This isn’t a pregnant woman craving clay or paper, these sick people want to eat flesh and they’re doing it! I saw some disgusting things when I was escaping today.”

“Kane sent a message that he had to cut off the air to the Skybox.” Abby waved her hand like it was nothing. “That took care of the problem, they’re clearing the bodies now.”

“So suffocating them works? And you realize those are people, right? Kane just murdered all those people.” Clarke was indignant. 

“When they’re that sick, there’s nothing we can do for them. It only gets worse. I’ve had some success if I can get to them before then, the disease progresses slowly and I can stall it a little but,” Abby paused as though she was searching for the right words.

“Those people out there, are they ones you’ve stalled it in?” Clarke asked.

“You came in the back way? Those patients are recovering, you shouldn’t have seen them.” Abby rubbed at her arm like she was nervous.

“Recovering?” Clarke shrieked, walking past her mom and out the door.

She lifted her arm to gesture to the rows of beds of zombies strapped down, all still making those awful sounds. Bellamy was standing over one of them, reading what appeared to be the chart on the patient but he looked at her startled.

“These people are not ‘recovering.’ They’re barely alive,” Clarke shouted.

“Keep your voice down, Clarke,” Abby chastised.

“Tell me what’s going on, Mom,” Clarke demanded.

Abby’s gaze avoided the monsters strapped to the beds and instead was set on a spot behind Clarke on the wall. She wasn’t going to give Clarke any information and Clarke had to hold back the panic. Her mother didn’t know what to do and clearly couldn’t fix the problem. Wells had said this. Bellamy had said this. But seeing it for herself really drove home the point. The situation was out of control and Clarke had never been in a spot like this.

She saw Bellamy in her periphery pretending like he wasn’t listening but she knew he was. Even if she hated him, it was apparent now, they’d have to work together. His plan to get to the ground was probably the best idea they had.  
  
“Mom,” Clarke said softer now. “How is it transmitted? Is there a risk it could be airborne?”

Abby seemed to snap out of it and come back to herself. These were questions she could answer and she would answer for Clarke. Thank goodness the trip wouldn’t be pointless. She didn’t want to hear Bellamy gloat.

Before she could answer though, Bellamy knocked over a tray of instruments, she saw him holding his hand.  
  
“Shit, she scratched me,” he said, glaring at an old woman, or what used to be an old woman.

Clarke felt her stomach drop as Bellamy walked towards them. Abby directed Bellamy back into the exam room and had him sit on the table. 

“Is he going to get sick?” Clarke asked, unable to keep the panic from her voice.

Bellamy looked away, as though he were steeling himself for bad news.

“No.” Abby reached for his hand and started to clean the scrapes. “It’s transmitted through saliva and into the blood. And only when they’re at that state or beyond.” 

Clarke didn’t miss the way Bellamy relaxed at the information. This is why she needed to talk to her mom. At least she could be prepared medically for what was going to happen.

“So if I want to fuck a zombie I should steer clear, huh?” Bellamy asked and Clarke couldn’t help but laugh.

Abby was less amused. “I don’t have time for stupid questions.”

“It’s not a stupid question.” Clarke couldn’t believe she was defending him but here she was. “What is the council going to do about this?”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know,” Abby answered as she finished bandaging Bellamy’s hand. “Just go home and avoid sick people.”

“That’s your grand plan?” Bellamy asked annoyed.

“I’ve been relieved of my seat on the council to focus on the outbreak, I don’t know what their plan is.”

 “Shit,” Bellamy said under his breath.

“I’m grabbing a medical bag,” Clarke said, walking out of the room and heading towards where she knew there was a supply of bags. “Are you coming home, Mom?” 

“I’ve been here round the clock. Jackson and I take turns sleeping,” Abby said, trailing behind her. 

“Do you need me to come in and help? I know I didn’t finish my training but if I can help, tell me.”

Abby shook her head vehemently. “I want you home and I want you safe. Lock the door, don’t go anywhere.”

“Fine,” Clarke said, giving her mother one last look. “Let’s go, Bellamy.”

 

\--

 

Bellamy slowed as they went through the corridors. He felt stupid with a big ass bandage on his hand. The old lady had given him an extra scoop of food occasionally, he should have known not to get so close to her but he was feeling sentimental. The other people he’d seen that were sick hadn’t been people he knew. Basically there hadn’t been anyone on the godforsaken Ark that he’d cared about besides his mother and Octavia. None of the people turned zombies he’d killed meant anything to him. It was kill or be killed and he didn’t want to think about it.

But that lady, her hairnet was always puffier on one side and she would wink, giving him that little extra bit of food. It kept him from being hungry some days. Making two people’s worth of rations work for three people meant Bellamy went hungry a lot, but that old lady…

It didn’t matter. She was dead and gone. What was left was not her. 

“Wait, why are you stopping,” he asked Clarke when he saw stopping at a different apartment, entering the code to open the door.  
  
“I’m going home,” she said matter of factly.

“I don’t think you should be by yourself,” he argued.

“Look where we are.” She rolled her eyes. “The Jaha’s apartment is just down the hall and I want to sleep in my own bed. And get a bra that fits.”

Bellamy purposely kept his eyes on her face, she had a really nice rack but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.

“Fine, just lock the door.”

"Hadn't thought of that, wow, thanks for the advice." 

He didn’t really want to leave her though. He rationalized that she was going to be useful. She kept a level head and after watching her fight with her mom he’d found he respected her. Plus now he knew she had some medical expertise which was just handy to have someone around that could patch people up. So he stood awkwardly at her door.

“You can go now,” she said dismissively.

“I was just waiting for your permission,” he snarked back. 

“You’re insufferable,” she huffed.

“Do you want to help or are you just going to do what your mother told you?”

He watched her hackles raise and knew she was ready to fight him but he needed to know what she was planning on doing. Bellamy couldn’t imagine this girl he’d just met, the one that sliced into a zombie’s neck with a scalpel to disconnect the brainstem, hiding in her room as the world went to hell in a handbasket.

“I just want to sleep in my bed,” she ground out. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good.” He leaned over her and pushed her door open. “Have a nice night and don’t let any zombies bite.”

Clarke backed into her apartment carefully, avoiding contact with his arm like he was beneath her.

“I hope I dream of you not being an asshole,” Clarke shouted before slamming the door.

“That will literally only happen in your dreams!” he shouted back as the door shut.

 

\--

 

Bellamy tripped the minute he walked into the apartment. Someone had left their boots in front of the door and he almost fell flat on his face, but he grabbed ahold of a chair to steady himself.

He let out a string of curses and looked up in time to see Wells trying to cover his laughter.

“Was that a brilliant plan to keep zombies out?” Bellamy asked dryly.

“No, just some kid leaving their shit out but that’s good, we should start booby trapping the place, for safety,” Wells answered, smirking. “Where’s Clarke?”

Bellamy let out a heavy sigh. “Your best friend, whom you swear you have no romantic feelings for, is a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

It’s possible he was dropping that line to verify that Wells had no feelings for Clarke. Not that Bellamy had any reason to care about that or any reason to ask or really any feelings towards Clarke other than she was hot and very aggravating, but he wasn’t going to examine why he said the things he said. The world was topsy turvy, who knows why he said it. Not him. It was just conversation.

“She’s stubborn,” Wells admitted.

“Understatement of the century.” Bellamy said, running a hand through his hair. 

Octavia laughed from where he thought she was sleeping on the couch and sat up.

“Pot, meet Kettle, Big Brother,” Octavia said.

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Go back to sleep, O.”

Octavia gave him the finger before threw the blanket over her head.

“So where is she currently being stubborn?” Wells asked again.

“She wanted to sleep in her own bed but I guess it’s just down the hall and she said she’d be back tomorrow,” Bellamy explained and Wells seemed to relax just a little.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Just a scratch. I guess technically it was worth the trip. Dr. Griffin wasn’t easy to get information out of but we got some shit cleared up.” Bellamy lowered his voice when he saw one of the kids on the floor roll over with an exaggerated huff. “Basically don’t get bit.”

Bellamy relayed all the other things they learned from Abby Griffin and Wells seemed to take it all in.

“How bad was the fight between Clarke and Abby?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

“It was pretty bad,” Bellamy answered. “I’d have gotten smacked if I talked to my mother like that.”

“Clarke has a temper but so does her mom.” Wells shrugged. “Do you think she’ll come with us? To the ground?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Bellamy offered. “But that fight was brutal and there’s a lot her mom still isn’t saying.”

Bellamy glanced at Octavia on the couch then without looking at Wells he said, “Are you going to be able to leave your dad?” 

Wells didn’t say anything for a minute. Bellamy didn’t care for Jaha’s politics, and he had good reason to hate the man, but in the last week he’d really been impressed by Wells so he felt for the guy. 

“Yeah,” he said finally. “My dad’s gone, the monster in his skin isn’t him.”

“Is that what you told Raven about Finn?”

“Pretty much.” Wells leaned back in the chair and looked at the ceiling. “She’ll be fine by tomorrow. I’m going to take her down to the bay where the drop ship is and that Monty kid is going to meet us and help Raven. Are you going to hold down the fort here?” 

“Going to head out and gather supplies, hit up farm station for food and some more weapons. Jasper said they had shovels and axes that would be useful,” Bellamy said. “Also going to get a headcount on section 10, check on the kids from today and their families and see if they’ll come with us.”

“Be careful telling people about it,” Wells chided.

“I know, just the kids from the Skybox, and that’s why I’m physically going out instead of calling around. If Clarke will help I can take her and she can verify people aren't sick. It does us no good to take sick people to the ground.”  

“She’ll help you,” Wells said. “She won’t be able to sit around doing nothing. She’ll go crazy first.”

“If you say so.” Bellamy noticed Wells’ eyes drooping. “If the shower’s free I’m gonna hit it up. I’ll see you in the morning. Go keep Raven warm.”

Wells snorted. “Shut up, man. Have some respect for the dead.”

“Dead boyfriends? Nah.” He shook his head. “She’s been single for the last year while he was in lockup. You won’t even be a rebound.”

Wells threw a wadded up napkin at Bellamy as he walked away. “Fuck you!” But he was smiling.

 

\--

 

Clarke rolled around in her bed. It shouldn’t be this hard to get comfortable but she was unfortunately used to the bed in the Skybox. When she finally slept she had terrible nightmares of her father being floated, her mother telling her she was going to die, the walls of her cell caving in on her, a zombie taking a bite out of her neck, and then the worst thing, Bellamy Blake laughing at her. She woke up in a cold sweat and laid in her bed uncomfortable for another hour before she got up. 

She stood for a minute too long at the doorway of her parents bedroom. Her heart felt tight when Clarke saw the photo of her parents on their wedding day on the dresser.

She rummaged the cupboards but there wasn’t any food in the apartment so she decided it was time to go to the Jaha’s apartment. Sitting around her apartment hadn’t helped her at all. Her mind was still clouded with the awful revelations about her mother and she didn’t want to go back and face Wells. Clarke had treated him unfairly and she needed to apologize, but she didn’t know how to do that just yet.

The idea of facing Bellamy wasn’t so great either. It was so strange how he knew how to push all her buttons. She’d never met a person so infuriating. But then he was also concerned about her wellbeing, but surely it was his nature. She’d seen him with his little sister and he was so doting and protective.

Clarke didn’t want to think about how she panicked when he was hurt yesterday. He was awful. It wasn’t anything but concern over someone who was useful in this new, weird world of monsters.

He was unbearably hot, too. But she could keep ignoring that.

She was startled out of her thoughts by a knock at her door. When she opened it, she found Bellamy Blake’s back. He had his gun pointed down the hall. She exhaled before tugging on his collar to bring him into the apartment. He wasn’t going to stand down and talk to her like a regular person out in the hall with the threat of a zombie hobbling towards them.  
  
“Can I help you?” she asked shortly as she shut the door.

He looked around the apartment shamelessly while he secured his gun back in it’s hiding place.

“I figured if your mom hadn’t been home in a week, there wouldn’t be any food in the apartment.”

Clarke put a hand on her belly when she heard her stomach growl at the mention of food.  
  
“So you came empty handed?” she snarked.

“Yeah,” he said moving around her to scan the bookshelf in the main room. “But I have to go to farm station to grab more weapons: shovels, axes, things like that, and to get food. I figured you’d want to come and get something to eat."

Clarke hated the way he seemed to be judging where she lived. He made a face at something on the bookshelf and Clarke couldn’t take it anymore.

“If we’re gonna go, let’s go,” she said snippy.

Bellamy turned to her and raised an eyebrow but he didn’t say anything else. He just followed her out of the apartment.

They made it to farm station with no problem. They didn’t encounter any zombies or really any people either. The Ark felt like a ghost town, though. No one was out and about. Part of the ship was operating on low power so they walked through long swathes of hallways with minimal lighting. And everywhere had the ripe stench of death. It put Clarke on edge and she was beginning to wonder if Bellamy was ever not on edge.

But when they walked through the large airlock that separated farm station from the rest of the Ark, she saw him close his eyes, take a deep breath, and smile. She saw Bellamy Blake smile. Not smirk or sneer, but really smile. She might have even seen his teeth!

“What was that?” Clarke couldn’t help but ask him.

“What was what?” His grin falling immediately and his body tensing back up.

“Your face.”

He huffed annoyed.

“You looked happy for like half a second.” Clarke lifted her hand and rotated it, gesturing to his face. “It was weird.”

“Shut up,” Bellamy said but she caught him taking another deep breath.

“That! What is that?” she said, this time outright pointing at his face.

Bellamy exhaled with a grunt. “Have you never been down here? To farm station?”

“No,” Clarke answered.

“Try it, inhale slowly, go ahead,” he said, looking at her and waiting.

“I know how to breathe,” she said, crossing her arms. “I”ve been doing it for a while.”

“Humor me,” Bellamy said with a smirk.

Clarke rolled her eyes but gave in. She sniffed the air quickly and Bellamy shook his head.

“We’re used to breathing less oxygen on other parts of the ship but the plants, they make oxygen, you can literally breathe easier down here,” he explained. “So put your shoulders back and really concentrate on it.” 

She hated that he had a point. Everything he was saying was correct, so she begrudgingly rolled her shoulders and inhaled deliberately. Clarke felt her lungs filling with air and she felt herself involuntarily smile.

“Told you,” he said smugly, but something else was on his face too, and he didn’t look away from her.

She looked away, her eyes catching on the rows and rows of green, all under their own little artificial sun, wiry lights lining the slightly higher ceiling.

“For once, food scarcity isn’t a problem, weird, huh?” Bellamy said from beside her.

“Less mouths to feed means more food,” Clarke said, trying to hide the deep breath she took, reveling in the feeling of her lungs being full.

“Thanks, for the insight Einstein.” He started down the middle of the rows.

“So what are we doing exactly?” she asked as she followed him.  

“That kid, Jasper, is supposed to meet us at the tomato plants with things we can use as weapons, one gun and some scalpels aren’t going to keep us safe.”

Bellamy took a turn when he saw potatoes. She wondered how he knew where to go but he’d been here before so she dismissed the thought. They wound through what the plant markers said were kidney beans, then passed onions before Clarke spied the scrawny kid with features too big for his face. He was sitting on an upturned bucket and leaning heavily on the table next to him that was covered in tomato plants but in front of him was a duffle bag overflowing with shovels, picks, a few small axes, and a couple of machetes. 

Bellamy went right for the machete on top before he even greeted Jasper. He swung it around testing it’s weight but Clarke put a hand on his arm to stop him when she noticed Jasper’s skin. It was ashy and pale. A thick stain on the shoulder of his shirt caused Clarke to cringe.

“Jasper,” she asked gently. “Who bit you?”

Jasper’s eyes were glossy but he shook his head and perked up, giving a noble attempt at a grin.

“I’m fine. Turns out my mom was sick. I locked her in her room and I’m gonna lock myself in our apartment, but I wanted to get this stuff to you first.”

Bellamy didn’t jerk away from Jasper like she thought he would. Instead, he took two steps and stood over him.

“Thank you for bringing it,” he said.

“I’m going to die but I helped, right?”

“You did help,” Bellamy said putting a hand on Jasper’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Jasper, let us help you get to medical,” Clarke offered.

“Do you really think your mom can help?”

Bellamy answered before Clarke could, “Dr. Griffin can help.”

Clarke was relieved at the way he’d responded. She was worried he’d have some nasty things to say about her mom, but she was struck now by his need to console Jasper.

“I can get to medical on my own. You guys have stuff to do.” Jasper stood up unsteadily, Clarke and Bellamy both reached for him to help but after a moment he brushed them off. “There’s a wagon around the corner, over by the peas. I fuckin’ hate peas but they tasted so good today.”

“So we can use the wagon to gather some food?” Bellamy asked, trying to steer Jasper back to the task at hand.

“Yeah,” he said. “Don’t bother with the lettuce though. The iceberg isn’t ready because they harvested it last month and planted new. Your best bets are the foods you passed: potatoes, onions, peppers, and peas.”

“Thanks, Jasper. You really helped,” Clarke said sincerely.

“Cool, I’m gonna go now, I’m pretty tired,” Jasper said before wondering off.

“Do you think he’ll even make it to medical?” Bellamy whispered to her as they watched him leave.

“The virus takes at least two days and even if he was infected right when he got home, it’s only been about 12 hours. He’ll make it,” Clarke said, ignoring all the factors like exhaustion and roaming zombies.

She wanted to lie to Bellamy to give him hope, and herself. She wanted to believe Jasper would make it.

They spent the next few hours filling the wagon full of foods they could eat and some they could take in the dropship.

“Maybe we should have just all had more plants,” Bellamy suggested from his spot two rows over picking sugar snap peas off the stalk. “That would have given us more air.” 

“Realistically we’ve never had enough soil for that to work,” Clarke said as she pulled tomatoes off a vine.

“Thanks, Debbie Downer.” 

“Shut up,” Clarke snapped, offended.

She kept working on her tomatoes when a pea landed in her hair.

“Hey!” She glared in Bellamy’s direction but couldn’t actually see him.

“You’re incapable of having any fun, this is tragic,” he said before another pea hit her.

“ _I'm_ incapable? I haven’t seen you relax in the entire time I’ve known you! Not until we got here this morning and you started sniffing the air like a weirdo.” She huffed. “And stop throwing peas at me! You’re being wasteful!”

 A pea hit her her square in the forehead and she turned to the side to see Bellamy holding a fist full of pods.

“You’ve known me a day, don’t be so judgy,” he said harshly.

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him and picked up her bucket and walked towards the wagon. She dumped her bucket in with the other vegetables and headed off in the opposite direction from where she’d come. She didn’t to want to be anywhere near Bellamy Blake.

She settled on a row of peppers and went to work, but at the end of the aisle she noticed a body on the ground. Clarke looked him over, she could tell he wasn’t breathing but she leaned over and put fingers on his neck to verify the lack of pulse. His skin looked like Jasper’s and he didn’t have the typical blood around his mouth that signalled he turned into a zombie and had a bite of someone so Clarke gave him a moment and then went back to work on the peppers. She grabbed one last green pepper on the end of the row and turned when a hand grabbed her ankle.

Clarke screamed and tried to pull her foot away. The man was not dead, he’d changed and she was going to be his first snack. He had incredible strength for someone who had been not breathing a minute ago. Well, obviously breathing so shallow that she missed his pulse and breathe. She kicked again and again, while he made a hissing sound. Clarke finally came to her senses and took her bucket and smashed it into his head. She slammed the bucket over and over until she heard his skull crack.

Bellamy came running around the corner, swinging that stupid machete, but Clarke was catching her breath now. She’d taken care of it.

“Damn, Princess,” he muttered.

“I can handle myself,” she said, but she was shaking.

“You can,” Bellamy agreed looking her up and down. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and he didn’t push her.

“I think we’ve got enough food, let’s head back. It’s getting late anyway.”

“I don’t even like green peppers,” Clarke said, absently looking back at the bucket on the floor.

“They were my mom’s favorite,” Bellamy said, walking more alert and cautious.

“Another point against her,” she said dryly.

 

\--

 

Bellamy kicked himself the whole walk back to Wells’ apartment. Clarke seemed really shook up by the kill she’d made and even though he meant what he’d said, she could handle herself, he hated that she’d had to. He should have checked the rows more thoroughly. It was his job to keep people alive. Especially people who were useful. And Clarke was useful. That was why he cared. Or so he told himself over and over.

But by the time they walked into the apartment, Clarke acted like she was fine and Bellamy didn’t have time to focus on her because the first thing he saw when he entered the apartment was Octavia making out with one of the kids who was staying with them. A kid named Atom, with stupid hair and no parents. They’d been floated long before Atom was put in the Skybox which made Bellamy weary of him already. Kids like that could be dangerous.

“Hey, hey, come up for air, you two, don’t suffocate,” he said, dropping the bag of weapons he was carrying and smacking the back of Atom’s head with his hand. “Mom would be thrilled with this, Octavia, way to make her proud.”

The kid pulled away and Octavia glared at Bellamy. “Don’t be a dick!”

“You’re barely 16, don’t be stupid,” Bellamy said.

Atom shied away, getting up quickly, adjusting his shirt, and heading for the bathroom. Octavia punched Bellamy in the arm and went into Wells’ room and slammed the door leaving he and Clarke in the living room alone. She dragged the wagon over to the kitchen and started putting away some of the food that needed to be refrigerated while Bellamy stood staring at the door Octavia had just slammed.

“You weren't like that when you were 16?,” Clarke asked and he could tell she was trying not to laugh at him.

“No, I wasn't. You were?” he snapped.

“God no,” she said with a laugh. “Nobody liked me when I was 16.”

“Not even Wells?” Bellamy hated that he let that slip in front of her. He was so transparent.

Clarke made a face. “Ew, no.”

“You two never had a thing?” Bellamy asked handing her a cucumber.

“The extent of our thing was being each other's first kiss at 13. It was so bad I wondered if I even liked boys.”

 Bellamy laughed.

“I do,” Clarke continued awkwardly. “Like boys, I mean. And girls.”

“Good for you.” Bellamy said unsure how to respond. “But I wouldn't make out with anyone during the apocalypse. We're pretty busy.” Because maybe he was a little irritated at the thought of her making out with people that weren't him. 

“Thanks for that…... brotherly advice,” she said stiffly before she slammed the fridge and walked off.

 “Anytime,” he said, a little confused at what had just happened.

 

\--

 

“Raven needs a tool,” Wells said after he and Raven and Monty came back to the apartment.

Raven had gone straight for the shower without saying anything, Bellamy assumed she was still upset about Finn but Wells didn’t seem concerned.

Miller, Monty, Atom, Octavia, Harper, and a timid girl named Fox were all sitting at the table, eating dinner. Bellamy had planted himself on the couch since there weren’t any more chairs at the table. He’d started the meal standing directly behind Atom to verify where his hands were at all times but Clarke had almost pushed him out of that spot, both as she maneuvered past him to sit on the easy chair next to the couch and with the look on her face.  

Wells sat down next to Bellamy without getting any food.

“It’s in Section 17 though,” he said. “In the engineering module there.”

“There’s not currently any air in Section 17,” Bellamy said before stabbing some food with his fork.

“Which is why I’m telling you. I figured you might know a way around the problem,” Wells said.

“Around the _no air_ problem?” Bellamy asked, incredulous.

“You lived there,” Wells said like that meant something.

“You’ve lived here in this apartment for a while so let’s say the power suddenly goes out, fix that problem,” Bellamy snarked.

“There are flashlights in the kitchen drawers,” Clarke cut in and Bellamy scowled at her.

“Okay, so not a good example,” he said turning back to Wells. “But I really have no idea how to get to a part in Section 17 when there is no air in Section 17.”  

“Why not take oxygen tanks and masks?” Octavia suggested from her spot at the table. 

“There aren’t any,” Bellamy and Wells both said at the same time.

“Raven already checked engineering on the main level on our way back,” Wells explained. “The spacesuits don’t have any oxygen reserves either.”

“What if we just turn the air back on?” Bellamy asked. “The simplest plan is the best, right?”

“The air’s not on and if you walk into the command center and ask Kane to just turn the air back on he’ll arrest you for being the mastermind of the Skybox escape and he’ll ignore your request for air in Section 17.” Clarke huffed and Wells gave her a look like he was offended to not be named mastermind of the plan. “He’ll want to know why you want the power on in Section 17 and that will probably end with our entire lifeline of going to the ground completely exposed to an asshole who won’t let anyone leave the Ark.”

“So you’re a big fan of his, I can tell,” Bellamy deadpanned. 

“I’m sure he’s not a fan of yours either,” Clarke added. “The only reason he’s not coming after you is because he doesn't have the manpower, but if you go to him, he’ll arrest you.” 

“But maybe he listens and turns the air back on? We come up with a sob story about why he should, you and Wells get the tool, Raven gets the Dropship ready, everyone goes to the ground.”

“Except you, dumbass, you’ll be arrested remember?” Clarke said.

“Get Octavia to the ground and I’ll be fine up here,” he said seriously.

“I think I actually just _heard_ Octavia roll her eyes,” Clarke said.

“Yeah, I don’t approve of that plan at all,” Octavia replied. 

“I don’t need your approval on plans, O,” Bellamy said sternly.

“This is stupid, your plan is stupid, we can think of something better.” Clarke put her plate down and looked at the ceiling. “What about air vents, the ducts, can we climb through them? If we open enough of them on the way, that should bring a trickle of air into section 17. Enough to keep us alive while we grab the tool.”

Monty stood up from the table and came over to where they were in the living room with a tablet.  
  
“Here’s a map of all the air vents.” He propped the tablet up on the coffee table. “I think that might actually work. But we need to map a way to get there that is the easiest, the quickest, and one that will bring the most air with us.”

“Like if we get to Section 17 from farm station?” Clarke asked.

“Right, because there’s more oxygen in farm station,” Bellamy agreed, leaning over to look at the plans.

By the end of the night they’d mapped out a route to get them from farm station to the engineering room on Section 17 that would be the most effective and easiest to breathe through. Raven came out eventually and told them what the tool looked like. The only thing left to decide was who would go.

“I’m smaller and therefore take less oxygen, so let me go,” Octavia argued. “I’m getting bored of sitting around anyway.”

“No,” Bellamy immediately dismissed her.

“You know, that’s fine, Atom and I can just hang out.”

That got Bellamy’s blood boiling. Atom, to his credit, shrunk back in his seat and avoided eye contact with Bellamy.

“I’ll take Octavia,” Clarke said before Bellamy could pick a fight with Octavia. “She’s got a point, we’re both small and you know I can handle myself.”

“I’ll go with you,” Bellamy added.

“You don’t have to, besides, your shoulders are far too broad to fit in the ducts,” Clarke said.

Bellamy glanced at his own shoulder and grunted. “I could fit.”

Wells shook his head. “Nice try, man. You take them back to farm station tomorrow and help them get the grates off.”

“Fine,” Bellamy said. “Anyone else who wants to come can gather food while we’re there. We might be able to breathe the air on the ground but if we can’t find food, we won’t last long.”

Wells rubbed his chin. “You didn’t have time to check Section 10 today for people who might want a spot on the Dropship, did you?”

Bellamy sighed. “No, we got distracted at farm station.” He looked at Clarke but she looked down.

“I’ll start on it tomorrow. Monty, you can go with Raven tomorrow right?” Wells asked.

Monty nodded. “Hey, has anyone heard from Jasper?" 

Clarke immediately looked at Bellamy. He swallowed before speaking up. “He helped us at farm station today, but he’s sick.”

Monty cleared his throat. “Oh,” he whispered.

“He went to Medical. If you want to say goodbye, I can take you there,” Clarke offered.

“I can take you,” Miller said quickly. “It’s on my way home, we can go now, probably best to see him before he gets too far gone.”

Monty’s shoulders slumped but he agreed to go with Miller. When they left, Miller had his arm around Monty and Bellamy was glad that Miller was willing to comfort Monty. These kids really needed each other. They all needed each other because it was just getting harder as they went.

 

\--

 

Clarke let Bellamy handle the grates. She was busy drawing the map of the air ducts on her arm. Octavia was doing the same though she looked a lot more nervous about the task at hand.

Before Raven and Monty (and Miller who now seemed very concerned with sticking close to Monty) left to work on the Dropship, Raven had given Octavia a radio and one to Bellamy so they could communicate while Clarke and Octavia made the tricky run to get the tool.

“Okay,” Bellamy said after getting the last screw out of the grate and opening the duct so they could crawl into it. “You ready?”

Clarke took a few deep breaths, ignoring his question and climbed into the duct and started on her way. The space was cramped and musty but it was a lot easier than she imagined it would be.

She’d slept in her bed again last night, there wasn’t any room in Wells’ apartment. But Bellamy hadn’t put up a fight about it. He didn’t even look up when she left. It irked her but she couldn’t place why. Between his bitching about his sister and Atom and his terrible plan last night she didn’t even want to think about him. And yet, she’d dreamed about him. She couldn’t even remember what the dream had been about, she just knew he was following her around and she couldn’t lose him. She woke grumpy and not at all rested so any conversation he’d tried to make this morning she’d ignored.

Coming up on the first turn in the ducts, she heard Bellamy shout her name into the vent. She groaned and backtracked, which was difficult, but she made it to the end and hopped out, almost falling when she hit the ground, but Bellamy steadied her. She pulled away quickly, annoyed by his help.

“What?” 

“Octavia doesn’t want to go in there,” he said.

She was embarrassed that she’d forgotten about Octavia even coming with her, so caught up in how irritated she was at Bellamy for something he hadn’t actually done, except in her dream. Clarke looked around to find Octavia and she wasn’t even there.

“She had a panic attack,” Bellamy explained.

“Shit,” she said holding her forehead. “Because of the small space and…”

“Yeah,” Bellamy said without letting her finish.

“Fox took her over to the strawberries and they’re picking them.” Bellamy put his hands on his hips. “Which is dumb, strawberries won’t keep. But I guess we’ll eat them today and tomorrow.”

“Why’d you call me back? I can do it myself,” Clarke said, irritation lacing her tone.

She felt bad for Octavia but she didn’t need her. She could do this and they were losing time talking about it.

“Okay, well I thought you’d care to know what happened to my sister,” Bellamy snapped. “And you should take the radio.”

He picked it up off the ground near the grate and Clarke felt her cheeks grow hot with anger.

“I’m sorry your mother was so awful and fucked your sister up,” Clarke said, snatching the radio out of his hand. 

“Sorry your mother is so awful that she made monsters that like to eat people!” Bellamy shouted. “Turn the radio to channel eight or you’ll just hear the guard’s pointless chatter.”

Clarke wanted to say something. She wanted to yell at him. But he was right and there was no comeback for his words so instead she made an ‘ugh’ sound and climbed back into the vent. 

“Fuck you,” she said. 

“Fuck you, too,” Bellamy said over the radio.

Clarke’s whole body clenched in anger as she crawled. She’d already forgotten he could hear her from the radio.

Soon enough though, she had to focus on her breathing and where she was going so she mostly forgot about Bellamy Blake and his stupid face.

When she made the last turn, she had to work to position herself in the duct so she could kick out the grate with her feet. It took three tries, but she was able to dislodge it so she could get into the engineering module on Section 17. She was short of breathe from the effort of kicking the grate and the general lack of oxygen in the room, but she was able to locate the tool Raven needed.

“I got the thing,” she said into the radio as she rushed back to the vent quickly.

She took as deep of a breath as she could but she was still too far from where air was actually circulating.

“How’re you doing?” Bellamy asked, concerned.

“Feeling a little lightheaded so how about you don’t talk to me right now,” she replied.

She could hear him click the button to speak but he didn’t say anything. She didn’t care. Clarke just kept moving. It took about 10 minutes but she made it to the first duct with air and she stopped.

“I made it to the Section 16 turn so I’m…” She gulped in air, her lungs burned and her head was pounding. 

“Just rest there for a minute, Clarke, you’ve got time, catch your breath.” 

Clarke knew she was sick from lack of oxygen because she was glad to hear his voice. Glad he told her she could rest. Glad he existed. After a few minutes she felt well enough to start moving. 

As she pulled her way out of the vent, Bellamy was there again to steady her as she came out. She didn’t shake him off like the first time. Clarke let him hold her for a moment as she took another deep breath, like he’d convinced her to do yesterday when they first came to farm station. He laughed when she exhaled and if she had any energy to spare, she’d have pushed him away for laughing but she was tired and his strong arms were kind of nice.

 

\--

 

Clarke brought up the rear as the little group headed back to the Jaha apartment. Bellamy offered her the gun but she turned him down. She kept her scalpel and one of the axes they’d picked up yesterday and was grateful when there was only one zombie she had to hack into.

As they walked, Fox played with the radio. She switched the channels idly, but Clarke reached for the radio when she heard a snippet before the channel changed again. She flipped the channel back, it was the guard chatter Bellamy was talking about.

“Yeah, Dr. Griffin can’t do shit. Have you seen her arm? She’s been bit and she’s totally fucked,” a voice said over the radio and Clarke felt out of breath again.

She turned away from the group, just a few doors from Jaha’s apartment, and broke into a sprint towards medical. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears as she ran and her muscles burned from the exertion but she had to get to her mom.  
  
When Clarke got to medical her mother was easy to find. She sat in a chair at the end of the beds where Clarke and Bellamy had seen the patients strapped to their beds. The beds were empty now but no one had cleaned them up. The bloody sheets and restraints still where they left them.

“Mom,” Clarke practically screamed. “What’s happening?”

Abby shook her head and looked at Clarke, her eyes glossy, her skin tinged gray.

“They’ve all been floated. Put out of their misery. The misery I inflicted on them.”

“I mean you, Mom,” Clarke said honestly, not even caring about the people who were in these beds two days ago.

Abby looked down at her arm. “It happened last week actually.” She snorted like it was a cruel joke. “I gave myself a trial drug, different from the ones I gave Thelonius and the others. It was the first one I came up with. I figured I should test it on myself and it worked. But then I saw I wasn’t actually reversing anything so I tweaked the next batch. It went so much worse. I killed them and I’m going to be just as bad off.” 

“Mom,” Clarke tried but Abby shook her head again.

“I’m not sorry. Your dad exposed the problem, I tried to fix the problem. It was better than Thelonious’ plan. His hairbrained idea was to send you all to Earth. Like that would ever work." 

Clarke tasted bile. “It could work,” she managed to get out.

“You’ll all die from exposure and radiation. Then you’ll starve.” Abby laughed and it was chilling. “I know what you’re doing, Clarke, you and that boy. A kid from the Skybox came in yesterday. I thought he was delirious but the look on your face tells me he wasn’t.”

“I’d rather die on the ground than in space, Mom,” Clarke said boldly.

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll die either way.” Abby sighed. “I love you."

Clarke’s mouth was dry, it made it hard to form the words. But she said them. Because it was the right thing to do, not because she necessarily was feeling it. “I love you, too.” 

Clarke left medical in a haze. Her body was exhausted, she felt raw and a little sick. On her way there was a woman, a pregnant woman, shuffling towards her, but she could tell by her hair that the woman was sick. It was stringy and clumps were missing. The closer she got, she could see that she’d have to kill her. Her mouth had the tell tale blood stains. For a second Clarke considered just passing her. Seeing if she could sneak by without having to kill this zombie. She was so tired.

But the woman reached for her and Clarke lodged the scalpel in her neck. She killed three more zombies, one at every intersection of halls and the frequency started to alarm Clarke. At the fourth intersection Clarke heard horrible moans so loud that she had to cover her ears. Looking around quickly she saw down the hall, coming right toward her, a mass of zombies. At least ten deep. They weren’t fast but they were loud. She couldn’t cut through them so she turned back the way she came, but she saw more coming. A hoard. All moving along, the sounds vibrating off the walls. Clarke began to panic. She changed direction, taking a fork in the hall but now she was lost.

A hand reached for her and she slashed into it. A zombie had broken ahead of the pack and gotten to her. The hand fell to the floor and she swung her ax into his neck, careful to turn to avoid any blood getting into her mouth. She wiped at her face as the body hit the floor, another hand grabbed her shoulder, she spun around and Bellamy caught the ax by the handle before she could slice into him.

“Come on,” he said, pulling her along. Bellamy shot into the sea of bodies in the intersection. It caused the zombies to disperse enough that they could run down the middle as long as they were hacking as they went. Clarke’s arms were getting tired but she continue to swing and kick and make her way through. Bellamy had switched from the gun to his machete and was lopping off too many parts for Clarke to process. In any other situation she’d be horrified both by what she was seeing, and what she was doing, but the adrenaline pumped through her and she kept going without thought. They made it through the hoard and then Clarke shouted.

“No!” 

They were at a dead end. They’d fought their way through without direction and now the hall had ended and there was only a locked door. Bellamy kicked at it a minute before Clarke shouted again.

“Move!”

He switched places with her, holding off the few that were coming ahead of the pack, while she tried a trick that she hadn’t tried in over a year. She hit a few buttons on the keypad and it didn’t work. She tried the second and third combination that came to mind, then she remembered a fourth combination and the door clicked unlocked.

She grabbed Bellamy’s collar and dragged him, slamming the door before any zombies could even come close.

“How’d you open the door?” Bellamy asked, wiping some blood off his face with the back of his hand.

“Wells once stole all the master key codes. They work based on section and I just had to remember what section we were on and what the code to the corresponding section was.” Clarke reached for a packet of cleaning towelettes on the shelf.

They were a large storage room, full of stuff. There were desks stacked three high directly in front of them, behind that she could see bookshelves, chairs, all kinds of office furniture. There was only about four feet on either side of them of clear space. If they were going to be trapped here a while, she knew something bad was going to happen. They might kill each other in this amount of confined space.

She pulled out a few wipes and started to wipe herself down. Cleaning her arms and face with the towelettes, then Clarke threw the package at Bellamy. He caught it one handed and started to do the same. 

“Are you following me or something?” she asked him annoyed.

He snorted. “I came after you when I realized you weren’t with us at Wells’ place. Fox said you took off with the radio. Turned the radio on and heard some idiots talking about your mom being sick and fuck, I hate being right.”

“I went to see my sick mother. I’m horrible, I know,” Clarke shot back. 

“I’m gonna kill you myself,” she heard him say under his breath.

His jaw clenched and Clarke felt her fingernails dig into her fists. She wondered if she could just punch him, she’d never punched anyone before but she really wanted to punch him. She took a swing but he caught her arm and pushed her against the door.

“I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop coming after me like I’m your little sister,” she yelled at him and he let go of her arm but didn’t move.

He laughed humorlessly. “Oh, don’t worry, I do not think of you like my sister at all.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She paused for an answer but continued when she realized she didn’t want to know the answer. “Doesn’t matter. I can take care of myself and I don’t need you coming after me.” 

“You don’t need me? I guess you were doing just fine out there then,” he said, swinging his arm out with his machete, gesturing to what was behind the door. 

“I just wanted to check on my mom.”  
  
“I don’t know what for, she’s the reason all this shit is happening and she’s sick! And she got your father floated. Why do you even care about your mom?” Bellamy asked.

“Your mom fucked you up good but you still talk about her like she’s a saint, you can hardly judge me, dipshit!”

“Listen, princess,” his tone was dripping with disdain. “Sorry I didn’t want you to be torn apart by bloodthirsty zombies who look like people we used to know.” 

He was crowding her now, his hands up in the air, waving wildly, the machete still in his hand. She grabbed his wrist.

“Stop swinging this in my direction, please,” she growled. But his eyes were entirely focused on her hand on his wrist. He dropped the machete and she jumped a little at the way it clattered on the floor.

“I don’t treat you like my sister,” he said, his voice husky and low, his eyes clearly on her lips. 

The air seemed to change. Clarke swallowed and she saw Bellamy’s eyes rake over her.

“That’s news to me,” she managed to get out, her heart rate no longer racing because of the fight a minute ago, but because of his close proximity and the way he was looking at her like he wanted to devour her. 

“Is it?” Bellamy’s hand came to rest on her hip and she shivered.

She answered his question by closing the gap between them, slamming her lips into his. It actually hurt, she shouldn’t have done that, but he didn’t complain. Just grabbed her neck when she tried to pull away. 

He moved from her lips to her neck and Clarke leaned her head against the door. Absently she thought about the zombies behind the door, but the horrible sound had gotten quieter so she focused on the way need was pooling low in her belly instead.

She scraped her fingers along Bellamy’s back while he pulled the collar of her shirt down so he could kiss the tops of her breasts while cupping them over her bra.

Where she’d been exhausted before, Clarke knew she was tightly wound because of the last few days’ events. She craved friction so she undid her own pants and slipped her hand into them.

“Jesus, sorry,” Bellamy croaked, moving his hand to find hers, sliding down to where she was rubbing her clit. “I got this, I just got distracted by your incredible rack.”  
  
He kissed her again and she whined when he found the right rhythm on her clit. She reached out for his pants then, undoing them and slipping her hand to stroke his dick.

“Do you want to?” Bellamy asked in between harsh kisses.

“Your hand isn’t going to cut it, if we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right,” she demanded before she shimmied out of her pants and jumped to wrap her legs around him. 

“Shit, Clarke,” he hissed as he caught her ass. Bracing himself against the door with one hand, he pushed into her. They both groaned at the contact. Bellamy pumped into her steadily as she clung to him. She hated him. Definitely hated him. And this was just about feeling good. Because this felt _really good._

He came against her shoulder, biting her lightly, and that sent her tumbling over the edge. She clenched around him as he tried to hold onto her. He’d moved his arm up her back so her shirt was pushed up and her bare back was scraping against the metal door. But as soon as she’d come down from her orgasm he carefully put her down.

His breathing was shallow and she thought back to earlier in the day when she’d felt exactly the same when she was crawling through the air ducts. The thought made her giggle.

“You’re loopy,” he said, wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead to push his hair to the side.

“Am not,” she defended.

“Is there anything you won’t argue with me about?” he asked, trying to straighten her crooked and low shirt collar.

He ran his fingers along the collar line, it was low cut so she gasped when he swept across her breasts.

“Probably not,” she said breathy. 

“What if I do this?” he asked, dropping to his knees in front of her. He moved the hem of her shirt to kiss along her belly before he slid a finger into her heat. 

Clarke cried out.

“You want me to stop?” Bellamy asked.

He might have been looking up at her but her eyes were closed tight and her mouth was parted. She felt that breathlessness again and didn’t trust herself to say anything so she just shook her head.

“So I should keep going?” he said, lifting her thigh over his shoulder to gain better access to her cunt.

“Please,” she whined. 

She’d chastise herself later for begging. He wasn’t going to let that go.

He licked, sucked, and fucked her with his fingers to her second orgasm at an impressive pace. Clarke cried out when the waves washed over her and she clenched around him again. Her legs felt like jelly and she wanted nothing more to be able to just go to sleep. But as she came back to reality she remembered where they were and groaned.

 “Are they gone?”

“Hopefully your screams didn’t bring them back this way,” Bellamy said smugly.

“Shut up,” she snapped.

Clarke grabbed her pants and turned around, away from Bellamy.

“Now you’re shy,” he said. 

“That’s not going to happen again,” Clarke said firmly. “I don’t even like you.”

“Right,” Bellamy said, his tone even with hers. “Can’t stand you either.”  
  
She heard him crack the door open and walk out after a second.  
  
“Coast is clear, let’s go,” he said like nothing happened.

 

\--

 

She wanted to put as much space between her and Bellamy as possible, but he insisted (not so politely) that she come back to talk to Wells. Apparently he’d been the one to panic when she didn’t come back with the rest of the group. Clarke was pretty sure that was not the story he told her when he found her but she didn’t want to argue. Arguing and wanting to punch him in the face had led to letting him give her two orgasms and there was a hickey forming on her left breast, just above her bra that she kept adjusting her shirt to hide.

“I’ll talk to Wells, then I’m going back to my apartment to sleep in my bed.”

“Have at it,” Bellamy said nonchalantly. “Not like there’s any room for you to sleep here anyway.” He pushed open the door. 

Clarke followed him and was almost immediately being squeezed by Wells in a hug.

“I was so worried. Kane sent out announcements that everyone should stay put because the sick seem to be sticking together as they wander,” he said.

The echoes of the horrible moans and grunts of the sea of zombies flashed through Clarke. She shook her head to clear it and pulled away gently from Wells.

“I’m fine. I handled it.”  
  
Bellamy scoffed and Wells looked at him confused.

“Excuse me, I’m gonna go shower, get the stink off me,” Bellamy said and Clarke looked at him offended. “The zombie stink,” he clarified.

 Clarke rolled her eyes, sure that’s not what he meant. She turned back to Wells and hugged him again.

“What was that for?” he asked when she’d finished.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” Clarke answered. “And I’m sorry I blamed you for my dad. I’m sorry I haven’t asked you how you’re feeling about your dad being sick.”

“It’s okay. I wanted you to have your mom still but I guess that wasn’t going to happen,” he said somber. 

“I need to apologize to you,” Raven said.

Clarke hadn’t seen her before but she saw now that she was standing at the bedroom door. Since she’d killed the zombie that used to be Raven’s boyfriend, she knew she’d left a poor impression on the woman. She felt a little comforted in knowing that Raven hadn’t really spoken to anyone in the last few days. Raven came home from working on the Dropship and locked herself up in the bedroom. Wells would bring her food and as far as Clarke knew, she spent the rest of the time sleeping. Maybe she was mourning. 

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know about Finn,” she stumbled over the name, like it was the first time she’d said it since… “Wells told me about you getting the tool I needed today. That’s a really big deal and I’m grateful for it. For you. That we have you working with us.”

Raven pushed some hair behind her ear and looked like she might flee back into her sanctuary of Wells’ bedroom so Clarke just nodded.

“I’m glad we’ve got a genius like you fixing the Dropship to save all our asses. We’re lucky to have you,” Clarke said.

Raven blushed and looked at Wells.

Feeling like she was interrupting something between the two of them, she slipped out the door, ran quickly down the hall to her apartment, and crawled into bed.

 

\--

 

He was so fucked. Kissing Clarke back was probably his first mistake. Bellamy should have turned his ass around and avoided her in that tiny space. Then he wouldn’t be in this hell of knowing how good she tasted, knowing how soft her skin was, knowing how whole he felt when he was inside her, and then knowing that she didn’t give a single fuck about him.

Sleep was pointless, he tossed and turned, and gave up about an hour into it. Opting instead to grab a book from Chancellor Jaha’s shelf and trying to pretend he wasn’t thinking about Clarke. And her stupid smile. And the way she did stupid shit and could probably succeed at that stupid shit, even if he wasn’t there to back her up. She was sharp and smart, capable and adaptive. And he was fucked. 

In the morning, Wells announced that he was going to pick up Clarke and they’d finish letting people know about the Dropship and give them the option to come. Raven and Monty (and Miller again) headed to the Dropship to finalize the repairs so they could leave tomorrow. Bellamy and the other kids were left to pack supplies and take as many as they could to the Dropship and load it.

He managed to avoid Clarke all day, at least in person. Bellamy also got in plenty of good glaring time in the direction of this Atom kid. Octavia glared back at Bellamy but he was used to that. It was almost comforting in its familiarity.

It wasn’t until that night during dinner that things got complicated.

“Due to a solar flare and the increasing danger of certain sections of the ship, ventilation will be shut off in Sections 1 through 13 at 2200,” a booming voice came over the ship wide intercom. “Air will begin flowing again in those sections at 0900 tomorrow morning. All citizens of good health should process through the checkpoint at Section 14 to spend the night.”

“Shit,” Wells said.

“What?” Octavia asked.

“We’re gonna get arrested,” Raven answered, looking at her watch. “In about three hours. Unless we can figure out where we can sleep for the night. I guess the other option is hold our breathe for 11 hours but I don’t think even Clarke can pull that off.” 

Clarke shrugged from her spot on the couch. Bellamy was as far away from her as possible, leaning over the kitchen counter with his plate. He hated that Raven’s statement caught him off guard and he glanced at Clarke before he could stop himself. Clarke avoided his eyes and Bellamy mentally kicked himself. Of course she did.

“Why would Kane arrest us? Where would he even put us?” Bellamy asked Wells.

“Kane’s a power hungry asshole,” Clarke explained without looking at Bellamy. “I’d bet most of the council is mysteriously ill leaving him as a dictator. He’ll arrest us just because. Also there’s that bit where we’re all criminals.”  

“There’s only about 300 healthy people left on the Ark.” Monty said. “I just checked the medical records again. So many people are sick. Surely he won’t arrest us.”

“He’s been trying to get my father out of power for the last year. I’d bet he’s the one that relieved Dr. Griffin from the council since she supported my father,” Wells said.

“Barely but yeah,” Clarke muttered from her spot. “My money’s on that too. If we go check in at Section 14, he’ll definitely have us arrested if not floated on the spot.”

“Monty, is there still power and air in the Skybox?” Miller asked suddenly.

“Um, yeah, I think,” Monty said, doing a quick check on his tablet. “Yeah.”

“Great, can’t wait to be inside of one of those cells again,” Octavia said dryly.

“No, wait, you mean we should stay there,” Bellamy said to Miller, nodding his head. It was a good plan. No one would come for them there because of it’s location between the sections. But if it still had power and air, they could wait out the night there. 

“No,” Clarke said harshly.

“What do you mean ‘no?’” he asked, imitating her voice on the last word, shaking his head.

“There has to be somewhere else.” She crossed her arms defiantly.

“You come up with something then, but we’ve only got three hours. So let’s go to the Skybox and live to get on the Dropship.”

The kids all agreed. They started cleaning up and gathering their stuff, but Clarke remained on the couch. Bellamy didn’t care why she didn’t like the idea. It was their only chance and she was just going to have to go with it.

He packed his few things, his machete, a couple of books he took from Jaha’s bookshelf, his extra shirt, and headed out. The whole group trailed behind him and they made it in record time to the Skybox. Some of them were skittish about being back, but overall, they filed into the prison without a hitch. Wells and Raven picked the fourth floor, they checked all the cells and then told everyone to pick a spot. Once Octavia was settled (far away from Atom) Bellamy dragged the bedroll from one of the other cells into the one where she was and put it on the floor. He laid back with his hands under his head and stared at the ceiling trying to sleep.

Tomorrow they’d be on their way to the ground. They just had to survive the night. They hadn’t even seen any zombies on their way to the Skybox so everything was going to be fine.

Fine. Just fine.

Except he still couldn’t sleep. Even though he was exhausted from not sleeping the night before. He got up and walked the length of the catwalk outside the cells. He did a headcount. Everyone was here. The families that were left would meet them at the Dropship, Wells had told them when to show up and what they could bring. There’d be 65 people on the ship. Clarke would check everyone for bites before they were cleared to enter.

Clarke.

Clarke wasn’t here.

Bellamy had forced himself to focus on everyone else so he wouldn’t think about Clarke. But now he panicked wondering where she was. She clearly didn’t approve of sleeping here. His throat went dry. Had she gone to her mother? Or worse, to Kane? She seemed staunchly against that but Bellamy walked the cells again, all the doors were open, and Clarke wasn’t here. 

He nudged Wells, who was sleeping next to Raven, trying not to sound too concerned.

“Where’s Clarke?”

“She came in with us, I had to talk her into a little, but she’s here,” Wells said, sitting up. “Did you check on the third floor?”

“Why would I check there? We’re all up here.” he said annoyed.

“Her cell, it was on the third level, remember?” Wells reminded Bellamy. “Maybe she wanted to be somewhere familiar.”

“I’ll go look.”

“If you don’t find her, come get me, I’ll help you search more,” Wells offered and Bellamy nodded, but he didn’t have to take him up on the offer.

Bellamy found her sitting outside of her old cell. The door was open but she sat against the railing of the catwalk, staring down at the cell like she could glare it into submission. 

“We’re all sleeping on the next level up,” Bellamy said sitting down next to her.

He was probably going to regret this but she looked pale and uneasy and he couldn’t help being relieved to have found her. 

She didn’t look at him, instead keeping her staring contest with the doorway going. “I’m fine here.”

Bellamy nodded. He could have fought her, told her it was safer if they were all together, but he didn’t want to. He was exhausted so instead he looked at the cell too. He saw drawings all over the floors and walls. He hadn’t noticed them when he’d opened her door almost a week ago.

“Didn’t know you were an artist,” he said. “What’d you use? Chalk?”

“Charcoal,” she said. “It’s probably still in there, under the pillow, that’s where I hid it.”

“How’d you get it?” 

Bellamy knew prisoners in isolation weren’t allowed anything. In his brief time with the guard, he knew of two kids who went crazy in isolation after only a few weeks. Clarke had been in there almost a year. It was a wonder she survived with her mind intact. But Clarke Griffin was a wonder. His traitorous self wouldn’t let him forget it.

“You were in the guard, right? Before they found Octavia?” she asked, still not looking at him.

“Yeah.”  
  
“Did you know a redhead? Curly, wild, beautiful hair. Nice cheekbones, too. Tina Becks?”

Bellamy knew exactly who she was talking about. She was floated a few months ago for stealing rations. He nodded. 

“She was nice to me, when she brought me my meals, most guards wouldn’t even talk to me.”

“It’s against the rules for a guard to talk to a prisoner in isolation beyond instructions,” Bellamy explained.

“I know. But she talked to me. So I told her if she could get me something to draw with, I’d show her my boobs.”

 Bellamy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “You traded sexual favors for a piece of charcoal?” He was equally shocked and charmed.

“Not sexual favors, ew, jerk,” she said, finally looking at him. “I showed her my tits. That’s not the same thing.”

Bellamy raised his eyebrow. 

“It’s not! Besides, my tits are a gift, everyone should be graced with that gift.”

Bellamy tilted his head and made a face in agreement. “You said it, not me.”

“You know, you’ve seen them,” she said, not at all embarrassed. “As I recall, you were a fan.”

“I’ve got eyes and hands so yeah,” Bellamy answered.

Clarke shrugged and Bellamy tried to pretend her lack of embarrassment referencing the sex meant she was comfortable with him, not that she didn’t care about him at all so why bother being shy about it. He turned back to the cell. He looked at the drawings he could see from his spot. 

“Are they all of Earth?”

“Bodies of water I’ve only seen from space, forests I’ve only seen in pictures.” She pointed towards the wall on the left. “There’s an unfinished portrait of my dad on that wall, behind the door, but I gave it up. It made me too sad.”

“I don’t remember my dad, so at least you’ve got memories, even if they’re sad,” he said.

“Your dad was probably really kind,” Clarke said, surprising Bellamy.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Because you’re kind,” she answered, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Bellamy swallowed nervous. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t.” He could tell she was drifting off by her slow answer.

This was worse. This was so much worse. He liked the way she fit against him, the way her breath hit his neck when she nuzzled into him in her sleep. But at least he might sleep tonight.

 

\--

 

Bellamy woke to someone kicking at his foot. His neck was sore, actually, as he got his bearings, his whole body was sore. Railing from the catwalk was digging into his back and he was pretty sure his ass was asleep.

He opened his eyes to see Octavia standing over him, scowling.

“Any chance you’ll leave my love life alone because of this development,” she said, tapping her foot. 

“Shut up,” he said, trying to extricate his arm from under Clarke without waking her up.

Octavia kicked the bottom of Clarke’s feet though, startling her awake.

“Rise and shine, you’re gonna make us miss our ride,” she said, a sly smile on her face.

Clarke flushed embarrassed and pulled away from him quickly. She tried to smooth her hair and wouldn’t look at either of them. Octavia’s smile grew wider, enjoying watching Clarke squirm.

“I’m gonna go,” Clarke mumbled.

“Go where, princess?” Octavia called after Clarke as she literally ran away from them.

“Don’t call her ‘princess,’” Bellamy said, grabbing Octavia’s hand and tugging.

She took the hint and helped him up. “So only you can call her that?”

“I shouldn’t call her that.” He rolled his neck. “I’m not going to anymore. It’s mean.”  
  
“Because she’s super nice to you,” Octavia said raising her eyebrows.

“It’s complicated.”

“Clearly,” Octavia said, shaking her head.

 

\--

 

The walk to the Dropship was easy, shutting off the air was a good way to curb the zombie population. They passed a few dead ones on their way. Everyone seemed excited and anxious at the chance to get on the Dropship and head to the ground. Raven and Monty started the pre launch checklist. Clarke made herself a little spot at the front of the loading area. She formally checked everyone before they loaded onto the ship. A quick look over their arms, legs, she looked for blood and symptoms like ashy skin or a fever.

After she cleared each passenger, Wells would help the people onto the ship. Stowing their limited belongings and showing them how the safety restraints worked, Wells was quick and pleasant, helping to put people at ease.

“I’ve only checked 61 people. Who are we missing?” Clarke asked Raven.

“Sinclair, he’s trying to slip away from Kane without him noticing,” Raven explained. “And the Nakamura family. They’ve got a three year old so they were probably moving a little slower.”

“Hey, Blake,” Raven called out. “You see the Nakamuras?”

Clarke didn’t even realize Bellamy was in the hall. She was trying to pretend he didn’t exist. That hadn’t worked out as planned yesterday but it was easier today when she had more to do.

Then again, she knew he was one that she hadn’t examined. But she wasn’t concerned. He was so ridiculously noble that he wouldn’t need to be checked. If he was infected, he’d volunteer himself to stay and make a dramatic show of it probably. Idiot.

Good looking idiot. Noble, protective, smart and arrogant idiot.

It was exhausting to pretend she didn’t care about him. But she figured as soon as they hit the ground, assuming they didn’t die on impact or first breath, there would be plenty to keep her busy so she wouldn’t have to think about him. Especially not the way she felt safer when he was around.

“Here comes Sinclair, other than him, the hall is clear,” Bellamy shouted back. “I’m sure the Nakamura’s will be here in a few. Start your countdown check so we’re ready to launch the minute they’re strapped in.”

She couldn’t see him but she knew he was standing in the hall, probably absently twirling that stupid machete.

When Sinclair appeared she checked him over quickly and he and Raven walked up the ramp into the ship and a few seconds later Clarke heard the rumbling of the engine coming on. It was loud and the room started to vibrate from the engine. She tried to lean against the bulkhead but the subtle shaking made it uncomfortable so she stood, fidgeting her hands in her anxiousness.

But then she heard it, not the hum of the engine, but the awful sound of a large group of zombies. That terrible, guttural groaning that made her shiver. She grabbed a shovel that Wells had deemed unnecessary when they were loading yesterday. She reached the entrance but couldn’t see Bellamy. There were too many sick.

“Clarke no,” she heard him shout, confirming that he was somewhere in that mass of zombies. “Mrs. Nakamura is behind you. Get her on the ship!”

Swallowing her panic, Clarke turned to see the woman huddled behind a bulkhead, she looked too afraid to move. She grabbed Mrs. Nakamura’s arm but the woman wouldn’t budge.

“C’mon, this way!”

“Risa!” the woman shouted, causing Clarke to turn back to the hoard. 

That’s when she finally saw Bellamy. He was fighting them one handed, a little girl in his other arm.

“For fuck’s sake,” Clarke yelled. She pushed Mrs. Nakamura to through the door. “Get on the ship!”

Then she ran towards Bellamy. She cut through the crowd, feeling sick arms scratching and grabbing at her. She slammed her body into a child and felt a stab of guilt when she saw the child wasn’t a child anymore, but a monster who wanted to take a bite out of her. Clarke cleared the path out and tugged on Bellamy’s collar to get his attention. She didn’t think she imagined the way he looked relieved to have her help. They fought back to back on their way and barely made it into the airlock. Raven slammed down on the button to shut it and Clarke dropped the bloody shovel with a heavy sigh.

“Were you bitten?” Clarke asked suddenly remembering the task at hand.

She checked Mrs. Nakamura, who muttered about losing her husband on the way to the Dropship. Three year old Risa, leapt down from Bellamy’s arms and into her mother’s once Clarke had finished checking her. Clarke gently checked over Risa which was a little more difficult because of the way she was stuck to her mother, but Bellamy’s embrace had of course, been sufficient to protect the child. Raven and Wells guided them up the ramp leaving Clarke standing in front of Bellamy.

He was covered in blood and sweat, but Clarke knew she was too from the last few minutes of fighting their way in here. She grabbed a clean cloth, she’d been prepared to clean people off to verify their health but everyone had shown up relatively clean so this was the first time she’d needed to use it. Bellamy grabbed another but instead of cleaning himself off, he started to wipe the grime from her arms. She followed his lead and reciprocated. They spent a few minutes cleaning each other up, wordlessly checking as they went.

Clarke held her breath as she she cleaned off a clump of something from the crook of his neck. Sighing in relief when it all came clean.

“Thought that was it, huh?” he asked. 

“Nah, starting to feel like I’ll never get rid of you,” she said trying for light but her voice broke.

“Guess you’re stuck with me.” He’d finished helping her and was just staring at her, but she couldn’t look at him.

“Fine, just promise me you’ll stop doing stupid, noble shit like that,” she said moving her cloth to his face, finally looking at him. 

“You coming after me was pretty stupid, too.” He grinned and she rolled her eyes.

Clarke leaned in, kissing him, softer this time. Gently pressing her lips into his, licking against his tongue slowly. She felt him smile against her lips and she revelled in the feeling of warmth spreading all over her.

“Let’s go, lovebirds,” Raven called, forcing them to pull away from each other.

“Any chance we can land this guy in a former suburb,” Bellamy asked Raven, while keeping his eyes on Clarke. His fingertips trailed from her hairline down to her ear, tucking hair behind it. Clarke sighed happily, relieved.

“It’s only been 97 years. I’m sure there are a few places where buildings and houses still stand,” she answered as if she really had the ability to do that, even though she’d already told them she couldn’t steer the damn thing, only hope for the best.

“It’d make everything a lot easier if we didn’t have to worry about a roof over our heads right off the bat,” he said looking at Raven now. Clarke took his hand and started to pull him towards the ramp.

“Good news, this ship will be a great roof over our heads for a few days at least,” Raven said. “Hope you like sharing it with your 64 closest friends.”

“We’ll figure something out,” he replied.

“Here’s hoping the air doesn’t kill us,” Clarke added.

“Or that we don’t kill each other,” he said leaning over to kiss her hair.

 

\--

 

After his ears had stopped ringing, he unbuckled his harness and started to help other people with theirs.

Clarke was doing the same and by the time they got outside, he couldn’t believe his eyes. It was bright. It was green. It smelled so good, not like being stuck in a tin can in space. 

“Take a deep breath,” Clarke suggested.

“You first,” he said.

She threw her shoulders back, inhaled through her nose, and she smiled, wide and giddy. He did the same and smiled back at her.

They were going to be okay here on the ground.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The last half will be published next month!


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